So She Did
by ALoversDream
Summary: Imagine Sam and Dean's dreams get to come true. Story title taken from the quote, "She believed she could so she did." Dean x OC
1. Chapter 1

"Come on," Natalie muttered under her breath, her eyes scanning for open spaces in the parking lot of her apartment building. Her shoulders were tensed and her hands gripped her steering wheel so tightly, her knuckles were turning white. She had been on edge ever since she left work. An older man, late sixties, early seventies perhaps, known to most of the waitresses at Uncle Pat's diner as "Creepy Jim", had sat in a booth for several hours, drawing on napkins, drinking multiple pots of coffee, and casting leery glances at Natalie and her best friend, Stacia. When he had walked in, they had both walked as quickly as possible to the back to have a 'Rock-Paper-Scissors' battle over who would be waiting on him. After a round of best two out of three, Natalie had grudgingly agreed to wait on Creepy Jim if Stacia would take care of cleaning everything behind the bar once they closed. Two hours of feeling incredibly unnerved later, he had finally slipped out. Natalie had been so thankful that he was gone that she didn't even mind that he left without paying his bill. But when she stepped over to clean up his table, he had left several of his napkins behind. There were very crude drawings of her and Stacia. Disgusting. Quickly, she swept them off the table and into the trash, trying desperately to get the images out of her mind.

She and Stacia had spent the next hour cleaning the diner, refilling canisters and bottles, wrapping silverware for the next morning, and sweeping and mopping the floors. Natalie volunteered to stay and balance the drawer so that Stacia could leave early; that is, if leaving work at nearly 11:30 pm could be considered early. Stacia, although she typically lived with Natalie, was going home for the weekend. Their other two roommates, Clara and Bonnie, had already headed home for the summer. And as much as Natalie loved her roommates, she was looking forward to spending some time alone. Bonnie had been so busy with the rowing team she was on that they rarely saw her. And when they did, it was normally for about fifteen minutes late in the evening. Clara was going through boyfriend problems, and routinely stayed locked in her room, talking on Skype for hours. Stacia had been Natalie's best friend since middle school, to them it had only made sense to live together when they left for college, and for the most part, it had been a great decision. However, lately, Stacia had been distant. Except for when they were at work, Natalie never saw her, and their rooms were right next to each other. She supposed it had something to do with growing apart, but that didn't make losing her friend any easier.

When Natalie had finished balancing and turned off the lights to the diner, she grabbed her purse from under the bar, and stepped out into the night, keys in one hand, pepper spray in the other. It wasn't that Edmond was a dangerous city, per say. It was that there were things that lived in the night that she didn't trust, and she wasn't about to leave herself defenseless. When she had moved to Edmond, her father, a police officer with 45 years of experience, had given her pepper spray, and asked that she not be alone too late into the evening. If he knew that she was walking out of her work past midnight alone, he'd be extremely unhappy with her. Which was precisely why she didn't tell him she did this on a regular basis. She got better tips when she worked later in the evening, and it made her feel important to get to close everything up for the evening.

Her senses were in overdrive as her eyes attempted to adjust to the dark. She had read once that fear caused all of the human senses to peak. It was cool; just cool enough to make her wish she had a jacket. Her shoes crunched across the gravel, and when she was a mere four or five feet from her car, she thought she heard someone behind her, crunching in the gravel. Breathing down her neck. Watching, waiting. Spinning on her heel, she searched the darkness, letting out a deep sigh when she didn't see anyone. Turning back to her car, Natalie unlocked the door as quickly as she could, slipped in to the seat, slammed the door shut, and locked it, all in one fluid motion. Letting out a sigh of relief, she dropped her bag in the passenger's seat, digging out her cell phone, and turned to put her keys in the ignition when there was a tap at her window. Letting out a blood-curding scream, she realized who was standing outside her window and felt her rage boil over. Creepy Jim. "Go away!" she yelled through the closed window. "I'm calling the cops." When she began unlocking her phone, Creepy Jim held up his hands in defense and backed away, defeated. Letting out a frustrated grunt, she dropped her phone in the cup holder, started her car, and had spun out of Uncle Pat's Diner parking lot in a cloud of dust and spinning tires.

And now she was scanning the parking lot of her apartment building desperate for a parking spot anywhere except for the back corner by the trees. Every time she parked there, she got the feeling that she was being watched by someone hiding just out of her line of vision. She knew during the day that the guy that lived above her hung out there. He was pretty harmless. Most of the time he wandered around looking for plants he could smoke. But in the evening, the trees took on a completely different aura. Less of a 'hang out and get high' and more of a 'something's here that shouldn't be' type feeling. But lo and behold, this seemed to be the evening that the only open space was centered directly in front of the densest portion of the trees.

Hesitating, Natalie almost considered parking out on the street instead of the parking lot. Then with a soft laugh at how ridiculous she was being, she pulled into the available spot and shut her car off. Stooping to retrieve her purse and phone, she stepped out of the car, locked her doors, and turned down the sidewalk towards her apartment.

Instantaneously, she felt it again. Eyes watching her close and lock her door and start the long walk towards her apartment. Turning slowly to face the trees, her heart beating furiously, she blinked in the dark, trying to get her eyes to adjust more quickly. It was oddly silent. No birds, crickets, lightening bugs...Just the occasional rustle of leaves. Something was in those trees and she wasn't going to wait around to find out what it was. Turning quickly, she walked with a quick clip towards her building, her heart pounding in her throat. Natalie stepped under the single light post in the parking lot, thankful for something to illuminate the space around her. Pausing to catch her breath, or rather to remind herself to breathe, she stepped forward. As she did, the light post flickered and died. A terrible sense of foreboding filled her body. Natalie slipped her keys between her fingers, making sure one was her house key to make entry quicker. Walking as quickly as she could, Natalie watched the ground. The last thing she needed was to trip and fall, making her an easier target for whatever was out there.

As she stepped off the sidewalk and towards her apartment, she froze, fear gripping her chest. There were two children standing in the grass outside her apartment, facing the windows. Taking several deep breaths, she tried to let the fear ebb away. They were children; young teens at most. They weren't going to be able to hurt her, and if she was going to be a teacher someday, the fear of children thing would have to go. Natalie tried to play off her fear as them surprising her. But she knew better. Something wasn't right about them. Two children around ages ten and thirteen standing out in the grass past midnight? They definitely didn't live in this complex, she knew that much. Maybe they were lost? Before she could speak, the two turned around. Both boys, the older one had dark hair and was clothed in jeans and a blue t-shirt. The younger one was blonde and in jeans and a white shirt. They were both incredibly pale, and stared at Natalie as if seeing through her. As an education major, her immediately instinct was to help them. Children, obviously in need, standing outside past midnight. But something just didn't feel right. And her father had always taught her that if she ever felt uncomfortable, to leave.

Fight or flight instinct kicked in and Natalie began edging towards her front door, her hands shaking furiously. Making sure to keep her eyes on the boys, she was just about to unlock the door when she felt a pulling urge to let them inside. It was then that she looked at their eyes. Fear rippled through her body and her senses went into overdrive. She was clawing at the door trying desperately to get it open, her hands shaking so hard she could barely get her key in the lock, all while trying to keep an eye on them. Their eyes were entirely black. No pupils or irises. No white, brown, blue, or green. Just black. As she got the door open and stepped inside, Natalie turned to swing it shut and froze, the two boys standing directly outside her door.

"We need to call our mother. Let us in to use your phone."

But before she could respond with a firm no, there was a flurry of movement out of her right field of vision. Two males came barreling towards her door, one pointing a gun at the two boys, the other yelling for her to get inside and close the door. So much had happened tonight that she stood unable to move, watching the scene unfold. The taller of the two males ran into her apartment, grabbing Natalie by the arm and pulling her into the apartment while the shorter of the two began shooting. Being grabbed by a large male that was now standing in the entrance of her home was enough to snap her out of her shock. Flight was gone. This was her home, and fight instinct was taking over.

Running back towards her bedroom, slip sliding across the rugs, she dove into her room, yanked open the middle drawer of her dresser, and pulled out the gun her father had given her when she moved in. Checking to verify that it was loaded, she turned and snuck back into the hallway, creeping towards where the two had been standing. She tried to remember, in spite of her terror, to calm her breathing and watch for any flurry of movement out of the rooms to her left and right as she made her way to the front of the apartment. As she approached the entrance of the apartment, both men were standing with their backs to her. The two black-eyed boys were gone. And they were stupidly unaware that she was standing behind them, armed. Raising the gun to eye level, she observed how they froze when she clicked off the safety. Then, vaguely aware of the moonlight glinting off the badge engraved in the side of the gun, she said firmly, "Who are you, and why are you in my house?"


	2. Chapter 2

The two men turned slowly, raising their hands beside their heads to show they weren't interested in shooting. The shorter of the two spoke first, "Easy. We're not going to shoot. We're going to put down our guns, okay?"

Natalie held her ground, her dark eyes watching the two seriously, her form locked into place. "Fine. Just don't do anything stupid."

Putting their guns on the ground and rising back to full height slowly, hands still in the air, the taller of the two said carefully, "We're unarmed, okay? So if you could just put down your gun, we'll explain everything. We promise."

Again, her instinct was to fight. She didn't know them, and although they didn't look necessarily frightening, after her incident outside, she wasn't took keen to put the gun away. Her heart was beating so fiercely she could hear it in her ears and feel it in her fingertips. She was terrified, angry, exhausted, and…something she couldn't identify. Something that made her feel incredibly uncomfortable. But looking between the two, she hesitated for a moment, and then lowered her gun. "Okay. But I'm keeping my gun, you two are leaving yours where they are, and you both are going to walk, slowly, into the room on your left, my right. Deal?"

The two nodded and walked slowly, casting side glances at the guns lying in the foyer. Keeping a wary eye on the two she gestured for them to sit on the couch while she sat in the chair directly across from the two. This placed her closer to the door of the room and allowed her to keep a closer eye on the two. Despite the fact that she didn't trust two random men with guns that invited themselves into her home moments after she saw what she imagined were demons of some form, with eyes like that anyway, something in her bones told her to trust them. Their eyes, while not only not black, were clear and kind. A little worried, a little concerned, but honest.

Sinking slowly into a chair, her eyes flit between the two, eventually resting on the shorter of the two. Not to say they weren't both cute, but him…His eyes. The most beautiful shade of green she had ever seen. Shaking her head to better focus, she said acidly, "Names? Please." Damn her politeness. The taller of the two spoke cautiously, hesitantly.

"I'm Sam Winchester. This is my older brother, Dean. We're hunters."

"Hunters?" she asked quickly, her eyes flashing sharply, "Were you after those…things? The ones that looked like children? Because I don't know what they are, but they're not kids."

The two exchanged a knowing glance before the older one, Dean maybe, spoke. "You're right. They're not children, they're demons. Kind of. They're a specific type of demon."

The taller one spoke next, "They're more commonly known as Black-Eyed-Kids, or BEK's. There have been reports about them all across the country, and we don't know a lot about them, but what we do know is that they have to be summoned, and they're usually summoned by someone wishes to…harm someone else. And as much as we'd love to talk about this right now," the two exchanged looks again, "We really need to work on closing off your house, because they'll be back."

A jolt of panic flashed through her body at the thought of those things returning. Closing her eyes for a moment as she tried to process what exactly was going on, she nodded slowly, then more confidently. "Okay. One thing though. Whatever you shot them with made them disappear, right? What was it?"

Dean this time. Their tag teaming was exceptional; clearly this had happened many times. "Rock salt bullets. It doesn't kill them, but it does make them disappear for a bit. Now as lovely as this chat is going, can we _please_ get a move on?"

Natalie stood quickly, still watching them warily out of the corner of her eye. "Fine, what do we need to do?"

The two men flew into a flurry of motion, calling out to each other for paint, salt, while she stood in the living room, confused and exhausted. Dean hurried back into the room, shoving a bag of salt into her hands. "Here's what I need you to do, princess. Take this salt, put it along entrances of doors into the apartment, and along the windowsill of all windows. Got that?" Natalie nodded and began lining salt along the windows in the living room, moving fluidly through the apartment. Living room to entrance, to dining room, kitchen, each roommate's bedroom, bathrooms, her own room, den area. After the first room or two, in became second nature. Line of salt, check the locks, over and over.

When she was finally done, she returned to the living room where the men were reloading guns and discussing plans, slipping in silently. She felt guilty for threatening to shoot them. Clearly they weren't here to cause any harm. Not to her anyway. Sinking into the chair, her exhaustion creeping up slowly, she dropped her head in her hands for a moment, her eyes falling shut. Sam and Dean got quiet for a moment before Dean sat on the edge of the couch, watching Natalie carefully. Softly, he asked, "What's your name?"

"Natalie," she said without looking up. "Natalie Lyons." Her head was pounding, her eyes were tired, but her body was wired for battle. The fibers of her being were buzzing as she opened her eyes to watch Dean seriously. Sam turned to face her, also dropping to the edge of the couch.

"Natalie, would anyone want to harm you in anyway? Any enemies?"

Without missing a beat, she said seriously, "Jenny."

Another glance. No words were spoken, but they both nodded. It's like they were psychic. If Sam hadn't mentioned that Dean was his older brother, their actions would have indicated they were more like twins to her. Just as she was about to ask what the look was about, Dean said seriously, "Who's Jenny?"

"My mother. Well," she stopped, shaking her head slowly, "My biological mother. We aren't on good terms and she's…crazy."

"Why would your mother want to hurt you?" Sam asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Biological mother, Sam. Not mother. She lost her rights when I was about five, and I didn't talk to her until about…three weeks ago. I told her that she was making me uncomfortable, that I didn't want to talk for a while, and she lost it. Starting screaming curses and insults, told me it wasn't 'her loss anyway', and then said I'd regret it." Natalie paused to look between the two, adding slowly, "I'm guessing the…demon things are what I'm supposed to regret?"

The two men sat back, looks of mild shock lining their features. Silence stretched for a few moments before Sam said hesitantly, "It would appear so. We're going to stay until they show up again, because they will show up again tonight, and then we'll be out of here. Promise."

Natalie glanced between the two before nodding slowly, a sigh escaping her lips. "How do you kill them?"

"That's the thing," Dean said confidently. "We don't know yet. But we do know that they only show up between the hours of midnight and six a.m., they have to be summoned, and they are relentless."

Her eyes fluttered shut again as she shook her hair in disbelief. "What you're saying is that I hang out till six in the morning with you two, while I wait for them to show up to torment me again, and then pray that you figure out a solution for how to get rid of them before midnight tomorrow?"

The two nodded and she groaned. Reaching up to pull her dark hair out of the bun on the top of her head, she let the dark waves cascade around her shoulders. It was going to be a long evening. Dean watched her for a moment, his eyes flicking from her eyes to her full lips, the waves falling around her shoulders, the long fingers brushing strands away from her face. She was pretending not to notice, but the heat crept into her face, coloring her cheeks slightly. "Why don't you get some sleep?" he said suddenly, standing and walking to the window to glance outside for the monsters. "We can take care of it."

Her exhaustion was making her irrational. Sitting up straight with a flash in her eyes, she set her jaw firmly in determination. "Not gonna happen. This is my house. And if I sleep, I won't learn how to protect myself when you two aren't here."

Sam didn't suppress his grin when she spoke, nodding in appreciation. "Great! Grab one of these," he tossed her a gun loaded with rock salt, "And get comfortable. Our guess is that they come and go every hour. Which means we have about ten minutes."

Natalie nodded and checked the gun, familiarizing herself with the feel of the gun. It's weight, where the safety was. As she inspected it, Dean asked casually, "So where'd you learn to aim so well?"

She smiled proudly, lifting her dark eyes to meet his green. Jesus, he was beautiful. "My dad. He's a police officer. The gun," she gestured towards the gun on the side table next to her, the one with the badge etched on the side, "Was a gift when I moved it. It's etched with his badge on the side. It's a 9 mm."

The two nodded in appreciation, clearly impressed with the fact that such a small girl, with a tiny frame, toted a 9 mm with a badge on the side. She was on the cusp of asking for more identifying information about the two, like where did they come from and how did they track the demons to her, when the lights in her apartment flickered. Chills shot down her spine and the tiny hairs at the back of her neck prickled. "That's them," she said confidently, her voice soft. "The lights outside did the same thing the first time."

Neither one answered, but their demeanor had changed. Their eyes were sharp, scanning the outside for a sign of movement. Their bodies were tense, their faces serious. Joining the two by the window, reaching over to flip off the light on her way, she knelt in front of the window, her eyes just over the edge of the sill. There was nothing, and then in the millisecond it took her to blink, there they were. She froze for a moment, and then when she heard the command, one of the two, she couldn't tell which voice was which yet, she lifted her gun and fired. There was a hailstorm of rock salt bullets, and they were gone again.

Leaning back on her heels, she felt her chest heave as she tried desperately to suck in breath. Her head began to spin as Dean knelt beside her, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder, "Hey, Natalie, come on, breath. Deep breaths, it's okay. In and out."

She focused on his voice, matching her breaths to his words, dropping her head in her hands. After a few moments of silence, the sound of her heavy breathing filling the room, she laughed bitterly. "Is this how I'm going to die? A panic attack?"

Dean chuckled, shaking his head slowly. "No chance. Come on." Hauling her to her feet, he gestured for her to follow him to the kitchen. Helping her into a chair at the table, he began opening cabinets.

Natalie watched him for a moment before saying softly, "Cabinet to the left of the sink."

He grabbed two glasses, filling them with ice and water, before setting one in front of her and taking a seat across the table from her. "I would've grabbed you a drink, but you appear to live in a dry house."

She grinned, taking a sip of the water, before saying simply, "No. I just finished it off last night."

Dean's laugh bounced off of the cabinets, reverberating in her ears. Already, after a mere hour or so with him, she already wanted to do everything she could to keep making him laugh. The way his eyes sparkled, and his face lit up…Looking down quickly at her hands she kicked herself. She didn't know him. Clearly, he was telling the truth about being a hunter, but for all she knew, he hunted more than just monsters, serial slept with women on random cities, and was going to walk into her home (literally), charm her, and disappear in a week. And she wasn't about to let that one happen.

"Where are you guys from, anyway?" She asked suddenly, doing anything possible to keep her mind off of the demons and the man across the table from her.

"We travel a lot. Not really from anywhere," he said simply, his face serious. He was guarding himself carefully.

"Not what I asked, Dean Winchester," she retorted, matching his seriousness.

He hesitated for a moment, and then said carefully, "Lawrence. Kansas."

"Keep Lawrence Weird!" she said happily, her eyes sparkling brilliantly. "That's their motto, and I think it fits wonderfully. Which makes sense why you're from there, because this whole thing," Natalie gestured around the kitchen at the salt everywhere, "is very, very weird."

The two sat in the kitchen for the next several hours, Dean leaving at the top of each one to help Sam with warding off creepy children. When six am finally came, Natalie was so tired, she swayed on her feet when she stood to face Sam and Dean. As the two gathered their weaponry, and began loading the gorgeous '67 impala parked right where she had wanted to park last night, she stood anxiously at the front door. They had plans to visit Oklahoma State University to do some research over banishing the suckers, but confirmed that they planned to reside in Edmond and would be back later this evening for round two.

Natalie nodded and started towards the back of her apartment, and as she did, passing the salt and traps around the residence, she felt her panic building. Her roommates were going to be gone for the rest of the summer. She would be alone, and the thought gripped her chest with fear. Turning on her heel and sprinting to the front door, she flung it open, skipping out to the sidewalk, desperate not to appear desperate.

"Where are you two staying?" she asked, resting her hands on her hips in an attempt to appear in control and casual and not at all frightened of staying home alone.

They glanced at each other and shrugged before Sam said, "Probably at the motel at the edge of town."

"Would you-" Natalie paused, sucking in a deep breath. _Just ask,_ she chided herself. "Would you two want to stay here? There's plenty of room, and whenever I cook, I cook for an army so you wouldn't have to worry about eating out. There's wifi and cable, and I have to go grocery shopping anyway, so there will be beer later tonight, and I would just really appreciate it if you guys said yes."

And then breathlessly, she glanced between the two, hoping against hope that they wouldn't laugh at her instead. There was a moment of silent deliberation between the two that ended in shrugs from both before Dean nodded in confirmation, "Why not?"

So with a sigh of relief, a brilliant smile, and plans to meet back here at three in the afternoon, Natalie reentered her apartment, shut and locked the door behind her, and collapsed on her bed, fully clothed in her work uniform, dreaming of a perfect smile and green eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

**TW: Child Abuse**

Natalie woke up seven hours later with crick in her neck and a foggy memory. Rolling over, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. Yesterday, she got up early, went on a run, worked a double shift, got the hell scared out of her while sitting in the parking lot of her work, drove home, got the hell scared out of her in the parking lot, had two gorgeous men invade her home, then spent the entire night in and out of panicking before passing out on her bed, fully clothed.

So what did all of this mean? The demon children thing was off-putting. She couldn't quite grasp how someone was able to summon demons and use them to attack someone else. Summoning demons, she had heard about; it was in every teen horror movie. But she always just assumed they'd turn around and attack the summoner. What she needed to do now, was research.

True, she knew that's what Sam and Dean were already doing, but she wouldn't be able to relax until she knew a bit more about what was going on. Not being in control was not okay with her. Leaning over the side of her bed to scoop her laptop off the floor, she started at the most logical place. Google, "demon children, summoning". The results were a variety of funny stories about people comparing their crazy kids to demons and a book titled "The Summoning". But towards the bottom, there was something that matched both results. It was a site dedication to different rituals in different religious. And the spell to summon demon children included some pretty disgusting ingredients. Leaning closer to the screen, as if she was reading it wrong, she whispered, "Femur of an infant, tail of a cat…What the hell?"

Glancing around the room for her phone, remembering she left it on the kitchen table after her talks with Dean last night, she took off running, skidding around the corner. When she picked up her phone, a piece of paper under the phone slid to the ground. Bending over to pick it up, she frowned slightly. It was just a phone number. 785 area code. Kansas. Surely it wasn't…With a mischievous grin, she dialed the number, pressing the phone to her ear. If this was who she thought it was, it was perfect. She wanted to tell him about what she found anyway.

After several rings, the phone was answered with a serious, "This is Dean."

"Dean? It's Natalie. I found something."

"Natalie," Dean said pleasantly.

She tried not to notice how pleased he sounded. How soothing his voice was. How clear it was that Sam was teasing Dean and he was smacking him, trying to get Sam's voice as far away from the mouthpiece as he could. Suppressing a grin the best she could, she shook her head as if to shake the distracting thoughts away.

"Anyway. I just read the spell for how to summon, but I can't find anything about how to get rid of the demons."

"Perfect," Dean said smoothly, as if his brother wasn't just harassing him. "because we just found out how to get rid of the demons. We'll probably head back within the next few minutes or so."

"Great," Leaning back, Natalie let out a soft breath. "Did you guys manage to get any sleep?"

"A bit. We've been trading off on research and sleep. But we're used to it. Four hours is a great deal for us."

"After a few days of four hours for me, _I_ turn into a demon," she joked, unable to fight back a grin.

Dean laughed, making her smile even wider. "You're cute. See you later, Nat."

And with that, he hung up. Natalie hurried back to her room, dropping on to her bed with a grin. She was acting like a middle school girl, and she knew it, but she couldn't help it. Dean Winchester, with the gorgeous green eyes, the brilliant, perfect smile, the freckles across his nose, the compassion for a terrified girl called her cute. And Nat. She was head over heels already and she had just met him.

Unlocking her phone, she dialed Stacia's number, waiting while it rang. When Stacia answered, Natalie hurried to speak first, "Stace. Hey, listen. I unexpectedly have a few friends staying for a bit. Like a week or two. So I'm going to let them use your room, okay? Yeah, I promise they won't destroy anything. Thanks, you're the best." Before repeating nearly the same conversation with Clara.

Then diving out of bed, a grin still plastered across her face, Natalie stepped in the bathroom flipping on the shower. Undressing slowly, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Tired, dirty, but happy. Confused, hurt, but content. Whoever this Dean guy was, she wanted to keep him around. He just made her happy. Showering quickly and stepping out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and stepped out of the shower just in time to hear a knock on the door. Hesitantly, she edged towards the front door, letting out a sigh of relief when she saw Sam's head peek through the window at the top of her door. Thank Merlin he was so tall.

Unlocking the door and pulling it open with a brief hello, she started back towards her bedroom to get dressed, calling over her shoulder, "I'll be back in a second." And when she looked back and saw Dean's eyes watching her, she blushed furiously.

A few minutes later, she emerged in her favorite sundress. Red, cotton, tied in the back. Her long, dark hair, nearly black when wet, hung down her back in waves. Shutting her bedroom door behind her, she followed the sound of the boy's voices to where they were sitting in the living room. Sam was in the chair she had occupied the night before, Dean was draped comfortably across a chair. She paused in the door taking in the scene, blushing slightly when Dean's eyes fixed on her. "_It's just a crush,_' she chided herself.

Dropping down on the couch beside him, she said as confidently as she could, "So who's going first?"

Sam fought back a smirk when she sat down, before gesturing for her to go first. "Let's talk about the summoning before the getting rid of."

"Okay," she hesitated, then began listing the ingredients, fighting the urge to roll her eyes when neither one showed any sign of being surprised. "So clearly this doesn't bother you two. Just me."

"We're just used to it," Dean said casually, drawing out the words. "The only question is where Jenny got the infant femur."  
"Easy," Natalie said quickly, glancing between the two. "Jenny had a younger sister that died when she was just a few months old. She's buried in Tonkawa. Tiny little town in the north central part of the state. For me, the only question is how to get rid of the demons."

At this the boys glanced at each other, their tones shifting instantly from teasing to serious, uncomfortable. Then it was starting contest, as if they were trying to decide who should be the one to break the news. For a moment, she began to think that there was no solution. The demons would continue torturing her until she died. And just as she was starting to panic, Dean spoke, his green eyes fixing on her dark brown.

"She has to die. It's the only option. You die or she does." His face was serious, but there was something else there. Regret? Sympathy? Whatever it was, she didn't like it, and she didn't want it.

With a straight face, she said seriously, "Fine. Just tell me the best way and we'll get it done."

At the look exchanged between the two, she raised an eyebrow, "You didn't really think I'd let you do this on your own, did you? She's my biological mother. I'm going."

Sam frowned, speaking up again, "I still don't understand how your mother could do this."

Natalie stopped herself from rolling her eyes. He clearly wasn't listening very well. "Biological mother. Not mother." Standing, she walked to the far side of the room where the girls had all hung up pictures of their families. Pulling one down, she walked over to Sam, placing it in his hands. "This is my mother. Not Jenny."

When she sat back down on the couch, her eyes flitted between the two and the looks of confusion on their faces. There was a beat of silence before Dean said slowly, "I don't know about Sammy, but I'm confused. Why don't you slow it down and clear it up a little bit?"

Sucking in a deep breath, she let her eyes close for a moment before saying slowly, "Jenny is my biological mother. I was born when she was young. Very young. I lived with her for a few years before she had her rights terminated and I entered the foster care system. I was adopted by my parents when I was five and a half. So when I say that Jenny is not my mother, it's because she never acted like one."

Sam said cautiously, "Why were her rights terminated? Is it something that would cause her to be angry?"

"I doubt it," Natalie said with a snort. "Jenny had her rights terminated after a series of incidents. Neglect and abuse. I swallowed fingernail polish remover while she watched. She would get high and pass out for a while. She left me with her brother who…" she stopped, sucking in a breath. She didn't tell her closest friends all of this. "Who molested me. And then she tried to kill herself with me in the house. So no. Her termination was entirely her fault. She's mad at me because I don't want to be 'friends' with her. She's petty and dramatic. A liar. And now she's trying to kill me."

Actually saying the words, not just thinking them was enough to push Natalie to the brink of tears. Standing quickly, brushing the back of her hand across her eyes, she shook her head in determination, her hair rippling down her back.

"You guys figure out a plan. I'll be back in a second."

And without looking at either one, especially Dean, she stalked out of the room, locking herself in the bathroom where she sank to the floor in a puddle of tears.


	4. Chapter 4

**TW: Thoughts/Descriptions of self-harm**

Natalie wasn't sure how long she sat on the bathroom floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, her hair falling like a dark curtain around her face. She cried silently, sobs racking her shoulders. As much as she liked to pretend that Jenny didn't affect her, she did. The words she said, the actions she performed, the complete disregard for her children. It was sickening, and upsetting, and depressing. She had learned in her early teenage years that the depressing feeling that was soaking into her bones, the reason she cried for no particular reason, the reason she felt so helpless, was the genetics running through her blood. Depression, anxiety, alcoholism. All in her blood, with no way out.

Finally, after several long minutes, her breathing calmed. She began sucking in deep breaths, willing her heart to slow, her mind to clear. And for some reason, the only way that she could manage to calm down, was to think about cutting. Although she hadn't moved an inch since the moment she locked the bathroom door and sank to the floor, being able to picture in her mind where every sharp object was in the bathroom. Each drawer, the shelf in the shower, the purple leopard print bag under the sink. The way it felt to feel the sting of the razor. The adrenaline that pumped through her body when she saw the cuts across her arms, legs, hips. She hadn't cut in over a year, but the desire tonight was so strong…

But her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door.

"Nat? It's Dean. Wanna open the door for me?"

She didn't want to. She wanted to curl in a ball with her sadness and sleep for days. She wanted to pretend that none of this was happening. And more than anything, she didn't want Dean to see her. The embarrassment of being so emotionally distraught, of struggling with self-harm…She'd do anything to keep it a secret from Dean as long as possible. Guys didn't like girls that were emotionally unstable. Especially not guys that were so gorgeous, they could take your breath away with a casual laugh.

But against her better judgment, Natalie unfolded herself from the ball she had curled herself into and unlocked the door for Dean, moving quickly to crawl back to the side of the bathroom and wipe the tears from her face. He entered slowly, his eyes flicking across the bathroom floor. She knew what he was looking for, and the thought surprised her. She just figured that despite his work with the Supernatural, he was like most people she knew. Oblivious to depression and self-harm, unsure of how to handle people like herself that struggled with it. Instead, Dean sat down on the floor as well, his back against the bathroom door.

"You okay?"

She let silence fill the room for a moment before saying softly, without meeting his eyes. "Okay enough."

Dean, however, didn't miss a beat. "Really? Because you don't look okay. You look miserable. And frankly, princess, you look like you're standing on the edge of the cliff with no way out. So why don't you fill me in?"

Raising her eyes from the tiles on the floor to Dean's, she felt her heart sink to the pit of her stomach. He was watching her intently, his face serious. And he was waiting for an answer. Heart beating rapidly, a lump in her throat, she said softly, just above a whisper, "You're right. There's not a way out."

And then, with more confidence, she said a bit louder, "I either kill the woman who gave birth to me, that I don't get along with, that I don't understand, but feel required to accept, or I die. It's not much of a choice, Dean. No matter what I choose, I can't win. And either way, I die in some form. Whether spiritual or physical. And to be completely honest, as thankful as I am for the two of you being here, I will never understand how you manage to wake up every morning and kill creatures that look like humans. I just don't know how I'm supposed to be okay when I'm already not okay to begin with."

Dean's face shifted from concern to something unidentifiable. Confusion, maybe. Pain, definitely. And that was something she couldn't understand. He and his brother were so confident, so smart, and so careful to take care of each other that it was hard to believe that something she said would make him look this way. And when he spoke, each word broke her heart.

"No one's asking you to be okay with this. And we're not asking you to be the one to take care of this. We're more than happy to take care of it ourselves. But you are very, very wrong if you think we make it through this life all peachy. There's not a day that either one of us wakes up that we don't think about someone we've lost in this. Whether on the hunter side or the creature side. If you need confirmation, go ask Sam. Because he's been through more than anyone I've ever met. And he's still pushing on every single day. What you need to remember is that you're not doing this alone. Sam and I are right here, every step of the way. We know what we're doing, we know how to get through this, and we're not leaving you until you feel safe. Okay?"

And finally, the weight that had been getting heavier and heavier began to lessen. There was something about his tone, so honest, so believable, that she couldn't help but trust that he was telling the truth. So finally, nodding slowly, she let out a soft sigh. This was going to be manageable. And as long as she kept her eyes on his, she'd be okay. When he left, she'd have to find something to get her through, but for now, she'd focus on Dean. So when he offered her an arrogant, lazy smile and gestured for her to move in for a hug, she couldn't help laughing softly as she dragged herself across the bathroom floor to collapse in his arms. Perfect fit.

There was something intoxicating about his scent. It was different from the last guy she had hugged. He had smelled safe. Like soap, cologne, and mint. But Dean was a whole new ballpark. He even smelled dangerous. Leather, gunpowder, and whiskey. It's like everything that made him Dean seeped from his pores. And whatever that 'everything' was, she wanted it.

Then standing and offering her hand to pull Dean to his feet, the two exited the bathroom, rejoining Sam in the living room. Sinking to the couch, she locked her dark eyes on Sam's asking softly, "After a rather emotional heart-to-heart with your older brother, I have a question that he says you can answer. And if you'd rather not, I understand. But I don't know how to handle this on my own and I think you could help."

Sam looked from Natalie to Dean and back before nodding slowly. "Sure. Whatever I can do to help."

Sucking in a deep breath, she said softly, "Dean told me that you both have lost people on the hunting and the creature side. But he said that you've been through more than anyone else he knows. Can you explain?"

Sam hesitated, and then said in a cavalier tone, "Well I've died a few times."

The shock registering on Natalie's face was enough to send the two into peals of laughter that echoed down her hallways. Raising her hands for them to quiet down, she said seriously, "You have to be kidding me."

"Not at all," Sam admitted proudly. "Dean, am I lying?"

"Definitely not lying, Sammy."

The surprise of the situation sent Natalie into unexplainable laughter. After everything she had seen in the past twenty-four hours, something about Sam Winchester dying and coming back to life more than once didn't seem entirely out of the question. Then turning and surveying Dean with a wary look, she added, "And you?"

"Yep. Me too."

"What the hell," shaking her head, she laughed. "Okay. You guys win the award for most shocking news I've ever heard. I give up."

Standing, she started out of the room before turning around and saying seriously, "I'm glad you guys are still alive. You being here means a lot to me."

The two nodded in acknowledgement, muttering 'no problems' and 'sures' under their breath. Smiling slightly, Natalie left the room, re-entering with a list.

"So we're going to pretend that I didn't just have a mental breakdown, because I don't like talk about my emotions more than absolutely necessary. So it never happened." Natalie locked her eyes on Dean, waiting for him to nod, then Sam. Then with a bright smile, she nodded curtly. "Great. I need to go to the store. You two are more than welcome to stay here or go with me. There's wifi, cable, a gym close by. It's entirely up to you."

Immediately, she was greeted with two responses at the opposite end of the spectrum. Dean lit up at the word "store" and Sam lit up at the word "gym".

"Guess that answers that question," she muttered, turning to grab her keys from a table in the entry way where she had thrown them last night. Sliding an entry card off her key ring, she caught Sam's eye and tossed it to him. "Address is on the back of the card. Dean, are you ready?"

She needn't have asked. While she was busy getting the gym key off of her wrong, Dean had stood up happily, tossed his keys to Sam, and was standing at her left, as close to the door as possible without actually exiting the room. It was adorable, really. He was acting like a trip to the grocery store was the best thing to ever happen to him. Laughing, she grabbed a small purse hanging from a hook in the entryway, draping it across her body. Waving bye to Sam and asking that he lock the door on his way out, she and Dean walked down the sidewalk she had fled down the night before. Shivering slightly, despite the sunshine and hot Oklahoma air, she pointed out her car and unlocked it, sliding in the driver's seat. Pulling her iPhone out of her purse and plugging it into the cord plugged into the stereo system, she glanced up in time to see Dean roll his eyes.

"Seriously?"

"What?" he said quickly, feigning innocence.

"Don't roll your eyes at me. Just because you drive a gorgeous antique doesn't mean there's anything wrong with my choice in how to play my music."

"Whatever," Dean replied, turning to look out the window so she wouldn't catch him smiling.

"Furthermore," Natalie added as she typed in her passcode and selected a premade playlist, "Driver picks the music."

Dean opened his mouth to argue as she shifted into reverse, stopping when he heard the opening chords to 'Point of Know Return' by Kansas. Frowning, he reached over and grabbed her phone off her lap, scrolling through the list. The look on his face turned from one of defiance and arrogance to surprise and pleasure.

"Kansas, Journey, REO Speedwagon, Metallica, Whitesnake, John Mellencamp, Fleetwood Mac, Van Halen, and Foreigner," Natalie recited as she pulled up to a stop sign. "Surprised or annoyed? I normally receive one of those two emotions in response to this playlist."

"Surprised. Very surprised," Dean responded, smiling slightly. Passing her phone back as she pulled out of the parking lot, he added, "Isn't this music a little before your time?"

"Isn't it a little before yours?" she retorted, smirking. Whatever this was, she liked it. She was going to be disappointed when they left. Falling into an easy conversation about the benefits of listening to classic rock, with her occasional interjection that not everything that was coming out today was terrible, the trip to the store passed quickly.

Once inside, Natalie began filling the cart with produce. Fruit, vegetables, herbs. When she stopped to lift a bag of potatoes into the cart, she turned around and found herself face-to-face with a very smiley Dean, who appeared to be showcasing a pie. Crossing her arms across her chest, she shook her head. "Absolutely not."

Immediately, he pouted. Much like the three-year-old she used to babysit when she told him it was time for his nap. "Please, Nat?"

"No, Dean."

"But I want it."

"But it's full of preservatives and chemicals and is terrible for you."

"You sound like Sam."

"Maybe because Sam's smart?"

"No. You both just love crushing my dreams."

"Now you're just being dramatic."

"But I want it."

"Fine."

Dean had been so prepared to continue arguing, he paused for a moment with his mouth open, then shut it, paused again, then said hesitantly, "Really?"

"Yes, but not that one. I'll make one. It's better that way."

"Really?!" The excitement in his voice was enough to make her laughing, covering her face as she turned bright red. Too adorable.

"What's your favorite?"

"Apple."

Without another word, Natalie strolled over to the apples where she selected several, putting them in a bag and placing them in the cart. Then with a shy smile at Dean, she said carefully, "It's my favorite too. I always make one in the fall, when apples are more in season. Besides, it'll be a nice addition to the dinner I owe you two."

The rest of the shopping trip was made up of Dean asking for food and Natalie telling him no and suggesting healthier options. Much of the trip was give and take. By the time they were at the checkout, they were tripping over each other, talking and laughing, pointing out signs with inappropriately placed quotation marks, such as 'day old "bread"'. Loading the groceries on the conveyor belt, Natalie convincing Dean that he most definitely did not need candy, taking it out of his hand and laughing as he grabbed her around the waist to pull her back so he could reach around her for something else, she didn't notice the way the cashier was watching. When she finally felt he was under control enough she could focus on paying for the groceries, the teen turned the screen so she could better see the total and added casually, "You two are a really cute couple."

Natalie felt her face erupt in a tell-tale blush. As she opened her mouth to stumble over an explanation of how they had actually just met the night before and most definitely were not dating, Dean interrupted and said with a heart-stopping grin, "Thank you. Don't mind her. She's easily flustered. Cute, isn't it?"

Trying her best to suppress a grin, she paid in cash, slipped the change back in her purse and followed Dean out of the store, him pushing the cart he had graciously filled with sacks of groceries. Walking close, she reached over and nudged Dean's arm, offering a flirtatious smile. "Good save, Slick."

"Just add it to my list of redeeming qualities, and commit it to memory."

Rolling her eyes, she helped Dean load her car with groceries, started the car and flipped the air conditioning all the way up as he returned the cart, and plugged her phone back in, cranking Journey so loud, they had to yell to hear each other and her windows shook with every riff. Despite the impending battle that was coming later tonight, the anxiety and stress, the death, Natalie was happy. There was something addicting about Dean Winchester. It was more than just his pretty face. It was his demeanor and his passion and his drive. And the way he called her princess and told the cashier that she was cute. She didn't know what it was about him that she was so attracted to, she just hoped he'd be around long enough for it to develop into something more.


	5. Chapter 5

When they got back to Natalie's apartment, and she was able to snag a parking spot much closer than last night, the two carried the bags of groceries into the apartment, unloading them in the kitchen. Making sure to place her keys and bag by the front door, careful to grab her iPhone for music while she prepared dinner, Natalie began unloading groceries while Dean put them up. It was an easy system, one they fell into without thinking about it or discussing it. Movements between the two were easy, fluid, as if they had been around each other for years, not just a day. As the grocery sacks were put away and Natalie assembled the ingredients and utensils to begin preparing the pie, she said softly, glancing at Dean as she pulled a bowl out from the cabinet below the toaster, "What's going to happen tonight?"

An uneasy silence descended in the kitchen as Dean hesitated. Then seriously, the laughter slipping out of his eyes, he said carefully, "It depends. How far is it from here to where she lives?"

"About an hour or so."

"We'll leave here around nine then," Dean said, glancing at the clock. It was five now. "We'll scope out where she lives, and at some point we'll have to make contact. Preferably before midnight, because if we're trying to fight off demon children and talk to her, it could get much messier than it needs to be."

Standing slowly, she nodded, not meeting his eyes, her heart beating furiously. She didn't want another night of demons. She didn't want a life filled with fear of when Jenny would strike next. She didn't want to spend her nights panicked that something else would show up, this time in her house. She didn't want to relive the memories of her childhood with such anger just because Jenny would tell her she remembered wrong. And she didn't want to kill her.

Moving quickly so she could blink back the tears in her eyes without him seeing, she gathered the remaining ingredients, set her iPhone on a dock station in the corner of the kitchen, and opened the Pandora app. As music filled the kitchen, she turned to Dean with a smile, nodding. "Sounds perfect. I'm going to work on getting the pie made and get dinner ready. You're more than welcome to watch TV, use the wifi, sleep, shower…"

"A shower sounds amazing," he admitted, running a hand over his face.

"Great, I'll show you where the towels are." Thankful for the distraction, she led him to the hall closet, pulling out a thick towel. Then point out the bathroom, adding, "This room is mine, the one next to it is Clara's, the one across from Clara's is Bonnie's, and the one across from mine is Stacia's. You can pick Clara or Bonnie's room. They moved out for the summer. I have spare sheets and blankets in the same closet as the towels."

Then with a brilliant smile, she left Dean to decide what to do with himself and walked back into the kitchen. With shaking hands, she grabbed an apple and began peeling, trying to convince herself not to cry. Pausing, bracing herself against the counter, she sucked in a deep breath. It was going to be okay. It was necessary. Jenny could either call off the demons, or die. Simple as that.

Reaching over to turn up the music, she sighed softly when she heard the opening strains to "The Nearness of You" by Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. She could hear the shower start up, and began peeling apples to the beautiful melody. Out the kitchen window, the sky darkened slightly. It looked like rain. The rest of the pie making process went fairly quickly once she got in the groove. Peel, slice, in the bowl. Cinnamon, sugar. Crust, roll it out, in the pan. Fill with filling. Form the top layer. Dust with more cinnamon and sugar, in the oven. The song, by now, had shifted through several different songs, this time landing on "Devil's Backbone" by The Civil Wars.

For the first time, she really heard the lyrics as she sang along softly, leaning over the sink to rinse the dishes. "_Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I'm begging you please, don't take that sinner from me. Oh lord, Oh Lord, what do I do? I've fallen for someone who's nothing like you. He's raised on the edge of the devil's backbone, oh I just want to take him home…Give me the burden, give me the blame, I'll shoulder the load and I'll carry the blame. How many, how many Hail Mary's is this going to take?_"

When the song ended and she turned around and froze with a bowl in her hands. Dean was standing in the doorway, hair wet, leaning against the doorway with a smirk gracing his lips.

"How long have you been standing there?" she whispered

Dean laughed, uncrossing his arms and stepping into the kitchen, retrieving his open beer from the table. "Long enough to know you feel very strongly about this song."

Blushing furiously and rolling her eyes, Natalie turned around to put the bowl up. "I do not. I just…really…got into it because I was baking and it's going to rain and I'm happy and stuff." Spinning on her heel, she leaned back against the counter crossing her arms. "So there."

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," Dean responded, his eyes sparkling and a smile playing across his lips. "I just said that you felt strongly about it." Then with a teasing look, he added, "Any particular reason, princess?"

"No," she said quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. Definitely too quickly.

"Really," he said as he put the bottle down. It was less of a question and more of a statement. "Because judging by the look on your face, and the blushing, I'd say that you think I'm adorable. I mean, I think I'm adorable."

"Oh really?" she smirked, crossing her arms. "I mean, you're okay, but I wouldn't say adorable."

"Excuse me?" he questioned, crossing the floor so he was a foot away, "have you seen my face? I walked over so that you could better see it. It's pretty damn adorable."

"Compared to whose? Because I know you weren't comparing it to mine. There's no contest."

"No arguments there," he said softly. "Your face is definitely adorable."

"How adorable?" she teased, moving an inch closer.

Dean closed the space, using one arm to pull her closer, the other to push her dark hair out of her face. "Perfect."

And then before Natalie could respond with another flirtatious retort, before she could fully comprehend that he had pulled her so close that she could feel every muscle in his arms and torso. Before she could mention how beautiful his eyes were this close, how she could see every dark lash framing them, how she wanted to count every freckle dotting his cheekbones and nose…He kissed her.

In the millisecond it took for the surprise to register, she let her own eyes fall shut. She twisted an arm around Dean's neck, keeping his lips as close to hers as she could. She could taste the beer on his lips, but something else. Spearmint? The hand that had been against her face pulled away as he reached behind her to feel for the counter before pressing her against it. His hipbones dug into hers as his hands circled her waist. Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling at the hair at the back of his neck. When he bit down on her lip lightly, she gasped, and when her lips parted, he took advantage of the situation. Tasting his tongue against her own, she felt her heart flutter and her world tilt on its axis. He was as perfect as she had ever imagined.

Running her fingers across his jawline, down his neck, resting on his chest, she pulled him closer, if at all possible. Every nerve ending in her body was awake, and they needed him. Every piece. As he let his hands rest on her hips, kissing back as furiously as she was, a series of unfortunate events occurred.

The timer went off for the pie, her cell phone and Dean's cell phone both began to ring and Sam walked in the front door.

Jumping apart from each other as if they had been caught doing something much worse than just kissing in the kitchen, Natalie grabbed her phone off the iHome and answered it, while turning around to grab pot holders and pull the pie out of the oven, her phone held between her ear and her shoulder.

"Hi, Mom. Yeah, I'm great. What? Oh, no. I'm alone till school starts back up. Everyone else moved out. Yeah, I'm fine." Then she paused, hesitant to answer with both Sam and Dean standing in her kitchen, even if they were distracted with the call Dean was taking. "No, I haven't applied yet. I know, I just…haven't. I promise I'll think about it. Okay. Yeah, I'll call you tomorrow. Love you too. Bye."

Hanging up and sliding her phone across the counter, she put the pie on a cooling rack, tossing Dean a warning look gesturing for him not to touch the pie. Then, without making eye contact with Sam, she began assembling ingredients for dinner. It was always easier to pretend she was busy working on something than to stand and answer questions. She had learned that a long time ago. Meat, milk, eggs, flour, seasonings, potatoes, butter, so on. Grabbing the potatoes first, she stood by the trash can and began peeling. By the time she was halfway through with peeling, Dean was off the phone. Something about Garth and Arizona. Humming softly while she prepared dinner, she couldn't help freezing slightly when she felt Dean slip up behind her, placing a hand on her waist.

"He went to take a shower. What's for dinner?"

"Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, salad. Pie after. If you're really nice, I might let you have two pieces."

Dean looked over his shoulder, careful to note that Sam hadn't returned before dropping his head to kiss her shoulder.

"That doesn't qualify as nice, Dean. That's borderline evil."

"What about this?"

Lips across her back, the back of her neck, the spot behind her ear that made her shiver, hands pulling her against him, every nerve on fire again. Sucking in a deep breath, she hissed, "Not. Nice. Winchester."

He laughed softly, his breath tickling her ear, and then he was gone. Turning around to try and persuade him to come back, she heard what had made him stop. The shower was off. Groaning, she turned away busying herself with dinner. He was going to drive her crazy every chance he got. Chatting casually while she cut potatoes and added them to water, Sam rejoined, his long hair damp and tucked behind his ears. He retrieved a beer from the fridge and sat at the table while Natalie worked at prepping meat.

"Should we talk about the plan tonight?" Sam asked, looking between the two.

Natalie nodded in response, her concentration a little too focused on properly seasoning the meat, drenching it, adding it to a plate to be fried.

"When we get there, you can lead us to where she lives; we'll confront her and get her to call off the kids by taking herself out. If she won't, Dean or I can do it for-"

"No," Natalie said quickly, turning around. "If she won't do it, I'll take her out myself. This is between the two of us. I don't want you two getting sucked into it any more than need be. Just…Tell me what I need to do."

The two glanced at each other, and then sipped from their beers, clearly doing their best to avoid eye contact.

"Tell. Me."

Dean looked up, his face serious, concern etching his features, "Cut off her head. And then we have to salt and burn her body."

She stopped, unable to speak, before nodding slowly and turning back to dinner. It was easier to not speak right now. She could accept what she needed to do, but she couldn't say the words. Saying it made it too real. Tonight, she would witness the death of the only person she had ever wanted so desperately to please and so desperately to never see again. It was odd. In a way, she was going to do both tonight. She was going to finally stand up for herself, defend herself, and take out whatever was in her way, which was what Jenny had wanted from her all along. But once this was over, she'd never have to see from her again. Ever. A blessing and a curse.

Turning the subject to dinner as she worked to finish prepping as quickly as possible, she asked brightly, "I hope you guys enjoy eating as much as I do, because I can already guarantee that I'm going to make way too much."

Sam laughed, saying quickly, "Dean eats more than anyone I've ever seen in my entire life. Anytime there's food, and it's offered, he accepts. It's ridiculous."

"It's not my fault I'm always hungry."

"I don't know how you can be always hungry. It's like we eat a meal and then you-"

"Actually," Natalie piped up, tilting her head slightly, "You guys have done this hunting thing your entire life, right? Town to town, state to state?"

A look of confusion exchanged, and then nods.

"And I'm assuming that for the most part, you guys eat fast food or not at all."

Another look. More confirmation.

"Dean, as the older brother, how many times did you eat less or not at all so that Sam had enough?"

Silence. Both boys looked down at their beers, unwilling to speak. Then as Dean lifted his bottle to his lips, he said softly, "Often."

"Same here. Only, I wasn't traveling from state to state, I was living in a home of neglect. Kids like us, the ones that are deprived of food, tend to be more likely to steal food, hoard food, and overeat in order to overcompensate for the lack of food received earlier on in life."

The look of surprised that registered on their faces made her laugh softly. "Little bit of psychology. No big deal. I research all my disorders. Speaking of, how's that 'I'm too adorable to be in trouble' disorder working out for you, Dean?"

Laughter bubbled in the kitchen and before she knew it, the two were taking turns telling stories of each other's embarrassing moments on hunts. The time Dean was afraid of everything. When Sam was attacked by clowns and showed up covered in glitter. Before she knew what was happening, she was laughing so hard, she had to wipe tears from her eyes while she fixed the plates up with food. Then happily, proudly, she placed the plates in front of the two boys, and as she turned to retrieve her own, letting her fingers trail across Dean's arm, she said brightly, "Eat up, boys. We have a hunt tonight."


End file.
